The (Mis)adventures of the "Death Eaters"
Declaimer: if I owned Harry Potter, Sirius would come back...right now!
Rivalry and Headquarter
The Death Eaters were at a meeting in the Malfoy Mansion. Their meeting moved from place to place all the time. Last week they wound up discussing strategies for attacking the Order in a dump. Everyone was thankful that they had a nice roof over their heads that did not leak. Speaking of this, Bellatrix brought up an important point.
"We need headquarters," she said decidedly.
"Yes," Snape said. "The Order have headquarters. We would be worse than them if we don't have headquarters. Actually, since we don't have headquarters, we are worse than them,"
"No we are not! We cannot be worse than the Order!" Lucius cried in despair.
"I'm afraid we are, Lucius," Snape told him. "But we won't be once we establish headquarters."
"Where'll we establish them?" Voldemort asked.
"We should get a house," Snape said.
"How?" Voldemort asked.
"We need money," Bellatrix said. "How much do we have?"
"We were ruined a month ago," Narcissa said, "We had to pay quite a lot to get Lucius out of Azkaban,"
"We never had any to begin with," Bellatrix said.
"I'm broke," Snape said, "teacher's salary, you know,"
"Looks like we don't have any money," Lucius stated.
There was a moment of silence.
"The Death Eaters bankrupt!" Lucius wailed. "It's absolutely disgraceful! I'm sure that the Order was never bankrupt."
"What do we do?" Voldemort asked helplessly.
Snape rolled his eyes irritably. "We're Death Eaters. We go up to a Muggle realtor and threaten him into getting us a house."
"Let's go!" Lucius cried exitedly.
Lucius, who was the most eager of the Death Eaters on this particular project; Snape, who had something resembling intelligence; Bellatrix, who claimed to be the Dark Lord's most loyal follower; and Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself stood in front of Smith's House Agency. The sign under the door read "Find your ideal (in houses)!" Lucius ran up and rang the doorbell excitedly. Someone came to the door.
"Can we see Mr. Smith?" asked Lucius, almost hopping with excitement.
"Which one?" the man at the door asked.
"There's more than one?" Lucius asked, looking like a deflating balloon.
"Naturally, there's Mr. William Smith, Mr. William Williams, Mr. William Blake, Mr. William Gordon, Mr. William Fitzgerald, and Mr. William Grant."
Voldemort looked confused.
"Hang on," Snape said. "We said Mr. Smith."
"I told you there's Mr. William Smith, Mr. William Williams, Mr. William--"
"Their last names aren't all Smith!" Snape informed him, rather irritably.
"Yes they are!"
"Look, we want to see Mr. William Smith," Snape said.
"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" asked the man, and led them down a long hallway. He showed them to a large office where a tall, bald man was sitting at a desk littered with papers, pencils, and erasers.
"Mr. Smith--" Snape started.
"I hope you mean me and not Mr. William Williams or Mr. William Blake, or Mr. William--"
"No, we mean you, Mr. William Smith," Snape said, wondering what the hell was wrong with this place.
"Oh, good," Mr. William Smith said. "Do sit down," he gestured the whole group to one solitary, inkstained chair. All of them went for it, and the next second all of the Death Eaters and Voldemort were on the floor.
"I'm the Dark Lord, I get the chair!" shouted Voldemort. Eventually, Voldemort sat enthroned on the chair and the rest of the Death Eaters had brushed off their robes and were standing around him with disgruntled expressions.
"Now," Voldemort said. "We need a house,"
"What kind did you have in mind?" Mr. William Smith asked.
"A large one," Voldemort said.
"Well, here are the pamphlets--"
Lucius snatched the pamphlets out of his hands and looked at them eagerly.
"Oh, this one, this one!" he cried.
Snape peered over his shoulder in revoltion. "It's... pink," he stated.
"Yes, I know," Lucius exclaimed happily.
"We are not going to have a pink house!" Snape exploded. "Let's take this one and be done with it."
'This one' was a large, imposing-looked black mansion. It agreed with everyone. The next day, they went with Mr. William Smith to look at it.
"Alright, we're taking it," Snape said.
"Yes," Voldemort echoed.
"That will be 1 million pounds," Mr. William Smith told them.
"Obliviate!" Snape cried, right on cue. Mr. William Smith gave Snape the deal for the house and rambled away vaguely. Lucius, still as eager as ever, pulled the sign 'For Sale' off the door and they happily walked into their knew headquarters. Snape was amazed that something the Death Eaters decided to do had worked.
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